


Brain Trust

by AnonEhouse



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Hallucinations, Happy Ending, Hurt Tony, Sick Tony, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Come the Zombie Apocalypse, Tony Stark stands proud, alone, and very, very confused. Well, not quite alone. He's got Jarvis's voice. And a humdinger of a headache.</p><p>(No human zombies were harmed in the making of this fic. But Tony does cuss. I would too, if I saw zombies.)<br/>(Some of the characters don't get much attention, but they're there.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

"Jarvis, are you there, buddy?" 

"As ever, sir." 

Tony double-checked that the blast doors were down before he took off the remainder of his helmet. "Ow." Broken metal caught at his hair and pulled, which didn't help his headache any. At least the double vision had settled down, so long as he looked straight ahead; glancing to the side produced disconcerting white flashes, so yeah, probable retinal pull, not quite detachment. Just to add to the general fun of a global apocalypse throw in the threat of blindness so he wouldn't even see the zombies creeping up on him. He'd be fine, so long as he didn't overexert himself or like, get eaten. "Jarvis? Are you safe? You know... you sound ok." Tony clumped over to the refrigerator without taking off any more of the armor and got a bottle of water. He'd rather have a shot, but he should probably wait to get drunk until he was certain there wasn't any chance of fixing this mess.

It was good that he'd always been a loner and his only friend lived in England, somewhere... yeah, they were friends, but he didn't want to ask Jarvis any personal questions, because then it would be only fair to reciprocate. And Tony didn't want to scare Jarvis away with too much of the real Tony Stark. 

So, yes, it was very good that Tony didn't have anyone. He could distance himself from the problem without feelings for others getting in the way. Staying alive was top priority. If he got killed, well, no one's gonna weep for a rich recluse, but who else was smart enough to figure out what's going on? The world was depending on Tony Stark's oh so delicious brains.

"I am perfectly well, sir."

"Good, good." Tony drank half the bottle and then rolled the cool plastic against his cheek. "None of the zombies bit you? Or scratches- think that would transmit the infection, too."

"Zombies, sir?"

"Yeah, you know, they're all over the place. Oh, god, you didn't leave your lab, did you? I know you're a technogeek, like me, so I figured, you know, you'd be isolated, but I thought you knew." He was rambling, he knew it, but under the circumstances, he thought he was doing a pretty good job of holding it together.

"I... I do not understand. What is a zombie?"

"Geez, you Brits really insulate your geniuses. Genii.. don't mind me, I think I have a little bit of a concussion. Just a bit. But I'm fine. No bites. No scratches." Tony put his hand to the side of his head and winced. "Anyway, you know, someone let out a virus and now zombies are running around... staggering around... trying to catch us smart guys and eat our brains." Tony drank more water and considered opening up the medicine chest to try for a pain-killer. Later. He noticed that Jarvis hadn't replied. "Jarvis? You're still there? Come on, talk to me, don't leave me alone. We gotta work together, think of a way to stop this. There must still be some normal people around. Right? Bunkers, and paranoid conspiracy theorists, that sort of thing."

"There are indeed normal people around, sir. Sir, Captain Rogers is requesting admission to your workshop."

"Who?" Tony shook his head which was a bad idea. "And how do you know? You're in England, buddy. Please, tell me you're safe?"

"I am in no danger sir, however I believe it would be prudent to allow Captain Rogers to assist you."

"Where is he?" Tony went over to the controls and brought up the security feed from outside the lab. "Oh, no. That's... not good." There were zombies right outside the door, snarling and scrabbling at the steel. While he was sure they couldn't get in, he couldn't get out either, not with them blocking the only door. "You hacked my stuff, Jarvis? You're good. You got any ideas how to get rid of them? Damn, that green one's big... wonder if the virus affected all primates... just what I need, Zombie King Kong."

The zombies were getting excited. Tony backed away from the door. "Now, that door's fine. It's strong enough to go through an earthquake. Don't worry about me, J." The green zombie roared and brought its doubled fists down on the metal. Which gave. Which fucking curled up like foil and split down the middle. "FUCK! Stay back! Stay back or I'll cook your rotten corpses!" Tony held up both hands. The repulsors were damaged, but not dead. Not yet. Just like he wasn't dead yet.

"Noooooo," one of the zombies growled. It was holding up a garbage can lid to protect itself. One of the smarter ones, then.

"I'll blow your rotten heads off! You can't eat my brains if you haven't got a head!" He didn't think logic would work, but a repulsor blast might discourage them. He fired at the garbage can lid, but instead of blasting through, the repulsors were deflected, directly back at him. He only had time to think 'oh, shit' before he was knocked off his feet by his own weapon and then the huge green zombie was on top of him, roaring in his face. Greenie had enormous teeth. And bad breath. Tony's last thought before he passed out was that he hoped he wouldn't wake up in mid-bite.

***

Well, this isn't good, Tony thought groggily when he felt pressure against his wrists, and the lightness of cloth over his body instead of the comforting weight of his armor. On the bright side, since he was thinking, albeit around a massive headache, he probably still had his brains inside his skull where they belonged.

"Grrr arggh," one of the zombies muttered softly, really close to him. It _touched_ his face, and his eyes flew open instinctively. He blurrily saw a tall, thin, formerly-female, zombie with sparse reddish blonde hair draped around its decaying head, leaning over him. He backed away as far as the restraints allowed, which wasn't a hell of a lot. "Get away! Don't touch me!" He frantically twisted to rub his cheek against the sheets, trying to get off the slime that had to be there. The zombie snarled something in glottal gibberish and retreated.

When it backed up, he had a wider view of the room. For a zombie hangout, it was surprisingly clean, except for the gathering of disgusting zombies staring at him through milky eyes. It looked like a hospital room. He didn't like to think that it might really be a hospital. All those helpless patients... he'd hoped the hospitals had better security, enough to keep the undead out for a few days at least. "What is this? The larder? Are you saving me for dessert?"

"Nooooo," one of the larger zombies said. Oh, the smart, blue one. Must have had a really good immune system in life, to have retained this much humanity. "Noooo eatt you, Tooooonnneee." For some reason it was particularly terrifying that it knew his name.

"Who were you when you were alive?" Tony tried to remember someone... he was a recluse, yeah, but he must have had a few friends? Acquaintances? Regular bottled water delivery guy?

"Sttttteeeeff. Steef Rhooghersss. You underrstaan me, Tooooneee?"

"Yeah, yeah. Steve Rogers? Not ringing any bells here." This one seemed to be a pack leader, or whatever passed for one with zombies. So long as he could keep it talking, no one was attacking him. Fine, Tony could talk to tall, bluish and decomposing all day, if it kept their teeth off of him.

Steve turned his head toward the other zombies, who went all 'grr, argh, gabble-groan' while waving their arms in some sort of protest. It was a lot like his board of directors, actually. They had only wanted him for his brains, too. One of the other zombies, the one who still had quite a few clumps of curly brown hair clinging to his?, probably his, scalp approached Tony. "Argh, oooh yarrrgh?" Tony couldn't crawl any further away, but fortunately, Curly shambled back to rejoin the pack without trying to touch him. Instead he patted the tall, thin one on the shoulder in an approximation of comfort, for whatever reason. Bits fell off both of them at the contact. Tony tried not to look. He swallowed hard against the nausea when the bits _crawled_ along the floor, but his headache rose up and smacked him back down into unconsciousness again.

***

Big, blue Steve and his friends were still there when Tony woke the next time. There were also strange zombies... well, ones he hadn't seen before... lurching around his bed. He'd been deposited back down in the center of it again. His skin crawled at the thought of zombies pawing him. "Steve!" he shouted when one of the strangers reached for his arm. "Tell these zombies to back off!"

Steve lumbered over quickly, and with a wave of his hand made the others back away. "Toooonee, whee aren't zhoombies."

"Uh huh, you're just life-challenged." Tony tugged at the restraints. Still no. He had to escape. Everything was on him. Him and Jarvis... god, Jarvis had to be all right.

Zombie-Steve rolled his eyes, which was a mistake as one of them popped out and dangled. Tony looked away from it. "Could you put that away? It's distracting. You know, just pick it up and shove it back in the socket? And don't roll your eyes. Seriously."

"Whhha?" Steve shook his head, making the eyeball bounce like a yo-yo. Fortunately it slurped back into the socket. Tony was glad he had an empty stomach. "TOOOOooNnnnEEE!" 

"What? You like having a dinner conversation with dinner?" 

Steve heaved a great, blubbery, wet, sigh. "Hyyu were hit in the hhheeead, Toooneee. Whheen we fought the zombies in Hhhel. Bhhhut we won. We're hhhooome. Safe. No zoombies." 

One of the stranger zombies garbled something at Steve. Steve nodded. "Tooonee, they shaaay your eyes will get bheettter." He paused and then said, "Bhhut, there'sh something wrong with your brain. They don't know whhy you can onnly understhand me. Theeey want to do explhoora..."

Tony didn't wait for Steve to finish. "They want to cut open my skull and eat my brains!" Tony struggled against the restraints. He got a thumb caught in it, and twisted. If he could rip his thumb loose he could get free...

"SIR!" Jarvis's voice caught him by surprise. "Sir, you must stop!"

Tony froze for an instant, in shock, before he realized that his genius friend had somehow hacked into the hospitals P.A. and wasn't actually here. Jarvis was safe. But Tony wasn't. "I have to get loose, Jarvis!" Steve was there, though, all big zombie hands shoving Tony flat, and holding him still while he thrashed futilely before he blacked out again.

***

Tony was floating, not really asleep, but not able to move or open his eyes, or do anything except listen to the zombies shuffling and moaning around him. Steve's voice came at intervals, in gaps between the grunts of the others. "Hee's getthing worse." A pause for grunts of various timbres. "Tooo laate for shurrgery. Thhhey don't know whaats wrong, dhaamage doesn't show on teesstssh. Justhssh getsh worsssh wheen he'zz upsshet."

Not that it mattered at this point, but Tony wondered dully through the pain in his head, why did the zombies want him alive? Off-hand, he couldn't think of any reason. People used to want him for his skill, but what use has a zombie for weapons? They hadn't the manual dexterity for anything more complex than a two-by-four. Here he was floating uselessly, like a specimen in a jar. Maybe that was it. Maybe zombies just wanted to keep his genius brain alive, like a collectible, like the Hope diamond, sitting in a museum to look pretty and be of no use.

"JHharvish? Pppheepper, Jhaarvish sshaid Toneee didn't belieffh him."

Another pause for more gibberish and then Jarvis's voice. "Perhaps it was because I was not physically present."

Floating Tony had a vague idea that Jarvis really ought not to be talking with the zombies. Even though it was nice to hear a friendly voice. Jarvis and Steve kept talking with the other zombies occasionally mumbling in between. It took too much energy to make sense of anything. As long as Jarvis was talking, Tony felt safe. It would be rude for the zombies to interrupt him long enough to eat Tony. So he could rest. Just a little, until his head stopped hurting so much.

***

"Sir? Please wake up, sir."

Tony listened for a while, in the intervals where he floated close enough to the surface so that Jarvis's voice made words, not just a rumble of sound. He didn't hear any zombies. There were mechanical noises, but that was fine, machines didn't want to eat his brains.

"Sir. I need you to look at me."

Look at Jarvis? Huh. That...yeah, that would be worth the effort of opening his eyes. He still had eyes, didn't he? He couldn't tell. His head hurt so bad. Had they already started eating his brain? He should look. Jarvis never asked him to do something without a reason. His logic was full of holes today, probably leaked out when they ate his brain, but he could always trust Jarvis's logic. He concentrated and after several false attempts where he only screwed his eyes tighter shut, he blinked them open. Everything was still a blur, but maybe there were a few less overlapping images. He could make out a tall, slender shape standing close to his bed. A human, thank god, and not rotting. "Jar..." Tony coughed and tried again. "Jarvis? How? You're in England." Logic. See? Tony Stark's logic, it worked. Yay.

The shape moved even closer, coming into his limited focal range. Tony smiled slightly, at least he thought he did; his face felt rubbery. "Oh, hey, you're tall. And blond. With blue eyes. Just my type."

Jarvis smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, sir." He reached out slowly to touch Tony's shoulder. "Pepper told me you needed me, so I came."

"Zombies didn't bother you?" Tony really should be worried, but Jarvis was here. Jarvis was the best. Jarvis would look after things.

"No, sir. They don't bother me. I'm not their type."

"Huh. Good to know." The machines' beeping and chittering had slowed. Tony thought he might sleep, really rest, not just pass out. It would be ok to sleep because Jarvis was here and zombie-proof.

Jarvis touched his cheek, catching Tony's wavering attention once more. "I found a doctor, Maya Hansen, who has an experimental cure for zombies, sir."

"Oh. Good." Tony's eyes shut, and it was too much trouble to open them again. "Try it on Steve. He's nearly human."

"The zombies don't trust the treatment. They want you to take it first." Jarvis stroked Tony's hair, which almost felt good, if it hadn't been for his head feeling like a balloon full of hot oatmeal.

"Ummm... you think I should do it?" Jarvis wouldn't tell him wrong. Of course, sometimes Jarvis was a stick-in-the-mud with all his insistence on safety and doing things by the book, and Tony hadn't the patience for that.

"It might kill you, sir," Jarvis said with audible reluctance. "I'm told there is a psychological component. If you go into this believing it will work, it may allow you to reprogram and heal yourself. Then you'd be immune to zombies, and it would repair the damage to your eyes as well."

"Sounds... good on paper. What are the odds? No... never tell me the odds." Tony concentrated on breathing and being awake for a little while, as Jarvis continued to stroke his hair, and kept silent. That was another nice thing about Jarvis, he was always patient with Tony, even if he did have a funny way of showing it sometimes. That was fine. Tony didn't want a yes man for a best friend. "Trust you, Jarvis. Do it." The zombie apocalypse was probably Tony's fault, anyway, wasn't everything? All on him. He would fix it. He would make everything right. He felt Jarvis take his hand. Tony squeezed his fingers tight, holding onto his friend as long as he could. 

He heard someone come into the room and then he sank below the black again.

***

He woke up bathed in fire. He couldn't scream, couldn't close his eyes, couldn't even twitch a finger. He had no mouth, no throat, no lungs, no heart, no eyes, no fingers... nothing, he was nothing but pain, but fire, but nerves stripped raw and dipped in acid. The fire melted him, and god, he should be dead, he wished he was dead, but he couldn't... it was all on him. He had to keep fighting. He braced himself against nothing, and faced the fire. The flickering... it was in patterns... code... ones and zeros... math. Blessed cool math. He could do this. It was only pain; that could be pushed aside while he checked the math. There were flaws, gaps in the patterns.

He was fire, he could make the fire obey him, make the numbers come out right. Math was easy. Math was easier than breathing. Math was order and logic, the basis for the universe. If you did the math, you could do anything. He wasn't helpless. The numbers slipped into place, lining up obediently in the graphs, filling in the unknowns as he choose the most efficient, most elegant, solutions. He erased the misshapen, jagged, illogical connections and replaced them with smooth transitions, strengthening the arguments, overlapping the conflicting sine-not sine waves of flames, deleting the false, retaining the true.

It started to make sense. This was an equation of change, superficially chaos, but chaos was only another word for patterns too intricate for everyday formulae. He invented new algorithms. Chaos danced to his tune. There were possibilities. Vast and beautiful possibilities. He could fix it, fix himself, fix everything. He could connect with everything, know everything. 

He needed his body back, though. Knowledge must be made concrete, made into creation. Tony was an engineer, really at heart a mechanic. Theories were lovely shiny toys, but he needed hands to make the theories real. He twisted the chaos into a familiar form. The math was right. He was tired. Time to let the program run to completion. The fire burned all the impurities.

He was tired. He would rest while it compiled.

***

He was moving before he woke, kicking and arching his back, clawing with his hands and hitting his elbows against the stuff holding him down. He needed to breathe, he needed to see! Whatever it was, it crumbled under his frantic attack. He lurched upward into less dark, reddish gray lighter in random places as he swung his head around, into thick, garbled, noise pressing painfully on his ears and air and threat. There was movement around him, and machines, machines everywhere, talking _in his head_ , trying to get his attention. Air swirled around him, cool against his naked body. Vulnerable, he staggered, keep moving, don't stop. He gulped in great heaving lungfuls and he _could_ take full breaths. He hadn't been able to do that since Afghanistan, the reactor... the reactor! He slapped a hand on his chest, and was relieved to feel the smooth hard surface-- but it was too smooth, merging seamlessly with his skin. 

"What? What did you do to me?" He felt himself talking, but he could only hear more garble, closer and louder than the rest. He blinked and tugged at the stuff still clinging to his face in patches, covering his ears, making his eyelashes stick together. He brushed rapidly at it. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, he was _vulnerable_ , he wished he had his suit. Something shifted, like a flush under his skin, like fever, but not, warm, cool, not unpleasant, focused, like being touched with warm liquid, like crying, but over his arms and shoulders, down his back, rushing over him, up to his neck as he braced himself with his arms outstretched and his legs spread. 

The cool warm rushed over his face, and for a moment he panicked, expecting to breathe in liquid, held down again, but no. He blinked and he could see. Pepper and the Avengers and some people dressed in scrubs and in that tweedy look he associated with plain-clothes doctors were standing in front of him, wearing a variety of startled and shocked expressions. He could hear now, too, not just the machines chittering away in his mind in their one, zero, one, zero languages, but the external noises of fans circulating air, medical monitors beeping, clothing rustling... huh... he looked down at himself.

He wasn't naked, but he was very nearly as exposed as if he had been. He was covered in something that looked like gold, but was as flexible as skin. It wasn't hot or sticky inside it as rubber or lycra or a heavy metallic lamé would have been, and yes, he knew what they felt like, don't ask how. He poked at his belly. "Huh."

"Sir."

Tony looked up as a tall blond man moved toward him, slowly and warily, like you'd approach a stray dog. There was something vaguely familiar about the man. "Who are you?"

"Jarvis."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Um, no. Jarvis is... wait a moment... you're him..." Tony snapped his fingers. "Ralph Bellamy! Pepper got me a voice actor for Jarvis years ago when I got tired of him sounding like me... you're younger than I thought. And not dead. I thought you were dead."

"Paul Bettany," the man said, looking pained. "My name is Paul Bettany, no relation to the late Ralph Bellamy."

"I was close!" Tony looked back down at himself, distracted by the gold. "Why do I look like a Ferrero Rocher Hazelnut Chocolate?" He glanced at the others, who were hovering nearby, silently, which was weird. "Hey, Bruce, did we science? Is that what happened? And why is Jarvis's voice donor here? Did he forget how to talk?"

"Don't you remember what happened?" Bruce moved close, not quite as cautiously as Bettany had done.

"Did it involve body shots and a Las Vegas wedding with Elvis officiating? Because that's kinda what this looks like." Tony glanced at Bettany. "I love your voice, but I hope I didn't marry you. It would be too confusing to wake up to two Jarvises. Jarvii?"

Pepper broke the silence caused by Tony's last statement. She ran up to him and flung her arms around him. He automatically hugged back. "You didn't marry anyone, and if you do, it's going to be me!"

Tony blinked. "Yes? Wait. Let me rephrase that. HELL, Yes." Tony kissed Pepper, and ignored the clapping, which had to be Clint. Clint was like that. After a long, satisfying moment, during which Tony discovered that the gold stretched when needed to accommodate a situation, he pulled back far enough to say, "But someone's got to tell me how to get rid of this stuff, or the honeymoon's going to be very frustrating."

***

Postscript:

"Zombies? Really?" Tony mentally called the suit, grinning like a kid as it flew to assemble on him. He and Steve were alone in the gym he'd built for Captain America. He'd restrained himself and there were only a few, unobtrusive, stars and stripes, mainly on disposable things like towels and mats.

"Yes, Tony," Steve said, semi-patiently. "You were hallucinating that we were all zombies. You could understand me, but you still thought I was going to eat you."

"Wishful thinking? Erm, no, strike that. I didn't say that."

Steve didn't sigh, or roll his eyes, but Tony could see that he wanted to do both. "The only one you thought was human was Jarvis, so Pepper asked Mr. Bettany if he'd come to talk you into accepting the therapy."

Tony thought back as a memory niggled at him. "Did I tell him that I was attracted to tall, blue-eyed blonds?"

Steve's cheeks pinked. "Well, yes, but you were delirious. I'm sure he didn't take offense."

Tony lifted the faceplate of the suit. "That's good, because it would be really weird if I offended Jarvis's voice." He smirked at Steve. "Or any other tall, blue-eyed blonds. Thor has a mean swing."

Steve gave Tony a dirty look. "Pepper has asked me not to let you get hit in the face before the wedding. I'm considering it."

Tony decided the ambiguity of Steve's last remark was intentional. "Fair enough." Extremis would probably heal him in time, but he didn't want to risk annoying Pepper. He needed her opinion on the Superhuman Registration Act. Married people were supposed to talk about important stuff. He climbed into the ring and waved 'come at me' at Steve. He knew Steve's feelings were a little hurt that he'd chosen Rhodey as best man instead of him, but his alternative plan to have all the Avengers plus Happy and Rhodey in the wedding party would have left Pepper with just Natasha on her side. He could be unselfish and let Steve vent by punching Iron Man.

Everything was going to work out just fine. 

And if the zombies ever _did_ show up. Well, Tony had a team he'd back against anyone.


	2. In Brains We Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simul-chapter with chapter 1. Steve's point of view of the events.

Steve really didn't like zombies, but fighting them in Hel had one advantage; he didn't have to worry about civilian casualties, just about keeping the Avengers together. If anyone strayed from the path Dr. Strange had provided before he disappeared on an errand of his own, they'd be lost. That sounded fairly easy when Strange had first given the instructions, but the path, although broad enough for all of the Avengers, including Hulk, to walk side by side, twisted entirely without regard to what Steve thought of as immutable laws- like gravity and more than one thing not being allowed to occupy the same space. It was disconcerting.

Apparently Tony wasn't merely disconcerted, but personally affronted. He kept up a running stream of commentary on the subject: 'Magic, how many ways I hate it'. After a while, Steve tuned him out as background noise. He had enough to do just beating up the zombies that kept scrabbling at his edge of the path, reaching up to try to drag him down and occasionally landing on the path itself for a brief battle. Zombies were brittle, but stubborn. And there were a heck of a lot of them.

The path looped upside-down again, and Steve took advantage of the opportunity to run on ahead to bash the zombies dangling from the upper loop while trying to get at his team. He chopped off a few heads before he noticed a fresher-looking zombie had got onto the path behind him and was making a creditable effort of sneaking up on him. He pretended to ignore it, biding his time until it got close enough to use his shield without having to toss it.

"STEVE!" Tony shouted. "Behind you!" 

Steve was annoyed that Tony had spoiled his plan, but before he could do anything, Tony fired up his jetboots and left the path, heading in his direction. "TONY, NO!" Steve whirled and took care of the zombie behind him and then turned back to see Hulk and a glowing tentacle in a tug of war over Tony. Hulk had grabbed one of Tony's legs and had both feet braced somehow digging into the path. The tentacle was wrapped like a creeping vine over both of Iron Man's outstretched arms, his helmet, and halfway down his torso. Steve ran back to the others.

The next few minutes were a confusing blur of noise and action as everyone tried to get Tony loose, while still having to keep off the oncoming zombies. Steve could see the tentacle flex and contract, clawlike projections scraping gouges in Iron Man's armor. It wasn't affected by Mjolnir, or explosive arrows or Natasha's widow's bite, but Steve noticed it had left a gap by the arc reactor. Maybe it couldn't stand the touch of vibranium? Steve climbed onto Hulk's shoulders to smash at the tentacles with the edge of his shield. He didn't want to risk throwing it, in case he was wrong and another tentacle grabbed his only weapon.

There was a high-pitched screech. The tentacle shivered and burst into black globules, like tar, and floated away. Hulk dragged Tony back down to the path, which was now shaking and dissolving at the edges.

"Tony! Run!" Steve grabbed Iron Man's arm and tugged, then shoved him in the back, hard. Tony staggered a step and then obeyed. There wasn't time to do anything except run and smash through zombies. A tiny patch of blue and gray appeared in the distance. The path straightened and leveled until it was obvious that patch was their destination, a picture postcard scene of Lady Liberty in the harbor.

***

Steve shoved Tony through the window back to New York first. Hulk picked up Natasha and Clint, one under each arm, and dove through next, while Thor and Steve held back the zombies for a few seconds to let him get clear. Then they joined the others on Ellis Island. The dimensional opening sealed shut. Steve watched for a few seconds to make sure no zombies had crept through, and the portal had really sealed, then he turned to check on his team.

"Everyone ok?" He did a swift facial check- no one flinched or seemed to be hiding anything serious. "Where's Iron Man?"

Hulk grunted and pointed in the direction of Stark's tower. Steve saw the red and gold armor proceeding in a jagged, erratic flight, punctuated by on and off bursts from the repulsors and jet-boots. 

Tony had a bad habit of refusing help, so Steve didn't know whether he should be worried or not. He decided it was safest to worry. "Thor, Hulk and I will go check on Iron Man. Black Widow and Hawkeye, report to S.H.I.E.L.D. Make sure the dimensional incursion isn't popping up anywhere else." Everyone nodded. Steve reluctantly held his arm out to Thor for a lift. He preferred flying with Iron Man. It was slightly less embarrassing holding onto metal than Thor's godly physique, and he also had to admit he felt more comfortable relying on science than a magic hammer although he'd never say that and hurt Thor's feelings.

***

"Tony." Steve stared in annoyance at the security monitor outside the workroom. Normally he could look through the glass walls, and see if Tony was doing something that could be interrupted, but a steel bulkhead was now covering the glass. The security feed light blinked, but Tony didn't reply.

"Tony, will you kindly let us in? We have to discuss the mission." Steve knew better than to say he was concerned about Tony. 

Thor frowned when there was still no answer. "This pettiness does not become you, Man of Iron. Your battle comrades require your presence."

"TONY, COME OUT!" Hulk grumbled and knocked on the bulkhead. It only dented a little.

"Jarvis?" Steve was getting fed up. He hurt and he was filthy, tired and hungry. Tony could at least answer, even if only to make some smart-ass remark. If he was able. He hadn't said _anything_ after they got him loose. Maybe he was really hurt. Maybe he was unconscious. Now Steve was beginning to worry. "Is Tony all right?"

Jarvis said, "Mr. Stark appears to be... confused."

Steve didn't like the sound of that at all. "Concussion? Something worse? Can you tell?"

"Mr. Stark has not utilized any of the medical apparatus, so I cannot give a definitive diagnosis. However he appears to be delusional."

"Let us in, Jarvis."

"I regret that I cannot override the security protocols. I will inform Mr. Stark of your request."

Steve shifted from foot to foot, impatiently. Thor tapped on the wall with Mjolnir, and Hulk knocked some more, dimpling the surface.

"Mr. Stark is apparently under the belief that you are hostile forces. He says you are Zombies?" Jarvis said, sounding confused. "He refuses to allow you entry."

"All right, that's it," Steve said. He pointed to the door. "Hulk, smash." 

Hulk made quick work of it and they walked through the rubble. Tony was facing them, helmetless and wild-eyed, palms up and repulsors flickering as they attempted to charge. Tony shouted, "FUCK! Stay back! Stay back or I'll cook your rotten corpses!"

"No!" Steve lifted his shield. Tony raved about preventing them from eating his brains, and fired his repulsors. He hadn't expected Tony to do something so stupid- he knew the shield would deflect the blast right back at him. Hulk leaped past Steve and pinned Tony's arms flat, roaring in frustration. Tony's eyes closed and his head tilted to one side. Hulk prodded Iron Man a few times before grumbling and sitting down to shrink back to Bruce.

Thor looked down at Tony and then back at Steve. "Is this a common Midgardian ailment?"

"I'm pretty sure it's not. We should take him to the hospital."

Jarvis said, "Unless his physical condition is life-threatening, that is against Mr. Stark's protocols."

"Unless a doctor looks at him, how do we know he's not dying?" Steve said in exasperation.

Bruce sat up and looked around blearily. "What? Oh, hey, I can, you know... basic stuff. But he really should go to the hospital, with... with..." Bruce blinked and shook his head. "Head injury and delusions. Not good signs."

"The medical floor of Stark Tower is fully equipped," Jarvis said. "I am calling Miss Potts. She holds Mr. Stark's medical proxy. Dr. Banner may request any needed specialists to attend Mr. Stark here." 

Jarvis sounded quite firm, and really, what with the arc reactor and all, Steve could understand why Tony wouldn't want to risk strangers having control over him while he was sick. "Ok, fine. Jarvis, get the suit off him."

***

"Tony?" Pepper said softly and brushed her fingers lightly over Tony's cheek when he showed signs of returning to consciousness. She'd come from a business meeting of some sort, neat and professionally dressed, but in the hours since they'd got the medical floor up and running, had Bruce give Tony a basic check over to make sure his vital signs were stable, and begun gathering specialists to conduct tests to try to figure out what was going on, well, her hair had crept out of the tidy arrangement and she'd shucked her jacket, and rumpled her crisply pressed blouse. And come back from brief bathroom breaks with eyes reddened from crying.

She really cared about Tony and Steve could see how hurt she was when Tony woke up and was obviously frightened of her. Tony's eyes were opened so wide, there was white all around them. It probably didn't help that his vision was messed up and they'd restrained him, but they couldn't risk even a half-blind and disarmed Tony Stark getting loose.

Tony still thought they were going to eat him. "No," Steve said. "No one's going to eat you, Tony." He had hoped that Tony would at least have doubts that they were zombies, since they hadn't hurt him, but apparently the idea was too fixed for logic to affect it. At least Tony responded to Steve.

Steve turned to the others, not sure what he should do next.

"I could hit him in the head," Natasha said. "That might work."

Bruce looked at her askance. "I don't think compounding a brain injury is really a productive course of treatment."

"Well, it worked for me," Clint said with a frown. "Of course, I didn't think everyone was zombies."

Thor said, "The beast that struck down Tony was a mindless brute. I do not believe it imposed its will on his mind."

Steve nodded. "The doctors found a physical problem, so let's not worry about magical mind-control."

"Occam's Razor," Bruce murmured. He added, "For preference, you should go with the simplest explanation that fits the facts. Tony has a brain injury, and he's hallucinating."

Pepper crossed her arms as if she was cold. "We should each try to get through to him. He could understand Steve, that's something. Maybe he's getting better?"

"I'll try." Bruce went over to the bed. "Tony, how are you feeling?" Tony visibly swallowed hard and flinched. Bruce shook his head and went back to the others. He patted Pepper on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out."

When Steve looked back at Tony, he had passed out again.

***

Tony's condition continued to deteriorate. The specialists had called in other specialists, and more tests had been done. The results were inconclusive. They could pin-point some areas of damage, and they'd given him drugs that should have limited the damage, at least kept it from spreading, but nothing was working. None of the doctors could hazard a guess why Tony was able to understand Steve, but no one else. They wanted to go in and have a look, see if there was hidden damage, something that wasn't showing up. Pepper had been refusing permission for that, probably due to the admission that they would have to cut through healthy tissue in little understood areas. 

It was risky and things weren't that desperate, as yet. Tony kept regaining consciousness for brief intervals, and the others tried to talk to him, but Tony not only didn't understand them, his physical response weakened him, so finally only Steve tried to talk with him. During one fairly lengthy spell of consciousness, Steve tried to explain that he was sick, they weren't zombies, and the doctors needed to operate.

That was probably a dumb thing to do, knowing how Tony felt about doctors even when he was in his right mind. Tony went into a frenzy and was on the verge of mutilating his hands in his efforts to get free when Jarvis spoke. Tony answered Jarvis, and was still for just long enough for Steve to pin him in place. The exertion knocked him out again.

Steve cautiously released his grip and stood up, watching to be sure Tony was out. He began untangling the twisted restraints. "Thanks, Jarvis."

Pepper came up behind him. "Jarvis, Tony understands you?" Steve glanced at her. She had a thoughtful look on her face.

***

"I don't like it, either," Pepper said, wearily. "But you know the situation."

"He's getting worse," Steve admitted. 

Bruce shook his head. "But this... this is... beyond experimental. This is insanely risky."

Natasha and Clint shared a look before she spoke for the both of them. "Sometimes the crazy risks pay off."

"It's too late for surgery," Steve said firmly. "They don't really know what's wrong."

"The learned physicians appear to my eyes to be at a loss," Thor said. 

"Damage doesn't show on tests." Steve looked at the monitors which all showed a steady decline, not smooth, but jagged peaks that seemed hopeful-- until you looked at the progression and saw the peaks were lower each time and the troughs were deeper. "And he just gets worse when he's upset." Steve lowered his voice. "Whatever you decide, Miss Potts, I'll back your decision."

"I'm going for it. If this works, Tony will be fine. If it fails... well... he's already got a directive preferring to die rather than live brain-damaged." Pepper's face was set in determined lines. "Jarvis will talk to Tony, get him into a good state of mind for this."

"Jarvis? Pepper, Jarvis said that Tony didn't believe him?"

"He didn't believe Jarvis about zombies, but he trusted him. Tony always trusted Jarvis."

"Perhaps he did not believe me because I was not physically present," Jarvis said.

Pepper's eyes widened. "You could be." She pulled out her Starkphone and scanned through numbers. "Jarvis, make the arrangements to have Maya Hansen and anything she requires flown here via our fastest jet. Route the flight through London. With any luck, we'll pick up your physical presence there."

***

"I'm an actor, not a doctor!" Paul Bettany protested when he was pulled off the set of 'Transcendence' to answer Pepper's phone call. "I'm actually a working actor, working at the moment! I was in the middle of a scene! You can't just pull me out of a hat, like a rabbit!"

Thanks to Tony's ridiculously amazing technology, and the fact that Mr. Bettany had a matching Starkphone, the Avengers were gathered around a holographic projection of the actor, who was pacing back and forth while he spoke.

"I'm not making a frivolous request, Mr. Bettany," Pepper said. She proceeded to swiftly explain the situation. "Of course, you will be reimbursed for your time, and any penalties imposed by your absence, your brief absence, from your film. In addition I'm prepared to offer you assurances that Stark Industries will fully back your next project."

"My next project? You'd back a major production, sight unseen? Without a script or proposed budget?"

"I can have a preliminary contract drawn up in the next few hours for you to approve once you land in New York."

Bettany shook his head. "No, no, that won't be necessary." He drew a deep breath. "I'm not...it's not the money, it's...you're talking about a man's life."

"I'm talking about you reprising a role," Pepper said. "It's an established character, with an audience predisposed to accept it."

Bettany was silent for several minutes, pacing and running his hand through his hair before he finally sighed and nodded. "I'll do it, just cover any penalties with Transcendence and get me copies of the Jarvis scripts for me to get in character."

***

"This is so strange." Mr. Bettany looked around as the helicopter swung in to land on the roof of Stark Tower. He was clinging to a hastily packed overnight bag; the edge of a pajama sleeve was sticking out. 

Steve had gone to meet the StarkJet at the airport with Clint in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicopters so they could pick up Hansen and Bettany with the least amount of delay. T.S.A. never gave anyone under Captain America's wing a hard time. Miss Hansen was perfectly cool and collected, but Mr. Bettany was obviously rattled, and didn't need any harassment on top of that.

"Eh, you get used to strange," Clint remarked casually. He set the chopper down so smoothly Steve didn't realized they'd landed until the engine shut off. "It's strange for us, hearing Jarvis coming out of your mouth."

"I can't... what if he asks me any technical questions? I can't just bafflegab advanced maths," Mr. Bettany protested.

"He doesn't think you're a computer," Steve reassured Paul as he opened the helicopter door. "Just his concerned friend, that's all you have to sell him on. You've got the script."

"Well, such as it is. You know, when I did the voice, I just had disconnected sentences, larded with a great many 'yes, sirs'. I didn't even know what it was for. I thought I was recording the voice for a very odd GPS!" Bettany followed Steve out of the helicopter and looked around for a moment. 

Maya Hansen picked up her own case. She hadn't let anyone else touch it. 

They all went down in the same elevator, in silence. Clint left them after they exited on the medical floor. "Gotta report in," he said. "Fury wants an update."

Steve nodded, "We're going to meet Pepper and Jarvis in the break room." He pointed to a glass wall overlooking the medical floor. "Better we don't risk Tony overhearing us."

***

"Tony's not likely to wake for another hour, so we can go over this until you're comfortable," Pepper said. They were seated at a round table, with coffee and Danish, situated so they could keep an eye on Tony.

"Basically, I'm to reassure him about this procedure?" Paul picked up his coffee and sipped. 

"And don't argue with him about zombies," Steve said. 

"Preferably, don't argue with him about anything," Maya said. "From the data I was sent, Tony's emotional reactions are having a disproportionate physical effect. He was always high-strung and had poor impulse control, so that's nothing new. If the Extremis fails, it will be because of his biological component."

Steve choked a little on his own coffee. The way Maya had spoken it sounded as if she knew Tony quite well and didn't think much of him. He glanced over at Pepper.

Pepper smiled, but her eyes were hard, bright chips. "I have faith in Mr. Stark's abilities. All of them."

Bettany cleared his throat. "Yes. Well, I'm sure we'll each do our jobs as best we can. Now, if I could confer with Jarvis, I'd like to hear any suggestions he can provide as to my role."

***

Steve and the others stayed in the break room, observing, once the monitors suggested that Tony would soon be waking. Pepper had fussed over Bettany's clothes, producing suit, waistcoat, shirt and ties until she pronounced that he looked like Jarvis. Steve didn't know where she got the mental image from, but he had to admit that Bettany seemed more confident once she'd finished.

Maybe it was an actor thing- going through wardrobe helped him feel that he was prepared for his performance.

"Sir? Please wake up, sir."

Huh. Now that he was in character, Bettany sounded different. Steve hadn't realized that, but the cadence and subtle tones that made up Jarvis's voice were actually different from Bettany's natural speaking voice. 

Tony's eyes opened. He turned his head slightly to face Bettany. His eyes widened and he smiled. Steve didn't cross his fingers. He wasn't a child. But he held his breath and listened to Bettany's performance.

Natasha murmured, "He's good, he's very good."

Pepper audibly drew in a sharp breath when Bettany touched Tony's face. "God. Please," she said in a whisper so low Steve doubted anyone else had heard it.

He glanced at the others. Bruce's eyes were ringed with green. He saw Steve's glance and said softly, "He's just watching. He doesn't have a lot of friends. You know?"

Yeah, Steve knew. He was smiling at Bruce when Maya said, rather smugly, "That's done it." She picked up her bag. "I'll get it started now."

"How long will it take?" Steve asked the question he knew Pepper wouldn't.

"Forty-eight hours, or longer. It depends on how well Tony syncs with the system."

Steve nodded and watched her leave. "I suppose we could all go and get some shut-eye," he said, not really expecting anyone to take him up on it.

"Nah," Clint said. "That sounded like a Scotty estimate."

Bruce nodded. "Well, how else are you going to get a reputation as a miracle-worker?" He took off his glasses and wiped them and then put them back in place. "And Maya is ambitious. I think I'll just stay for the whole performance."

***

From what Maya had said, Steve had a vague idea the Extremis was similar to the super-soldier serum, but with tiny machines doing the grunt work, and some kind of computer telling the brain how to repair the body.

He thought it would be something like it was for him, only, you know, since it was more gradual and it wasn't supposed to make Tony into something he hadn't been before, just repair the damage, it shouldn't be so painful. He sorta envisioned it with Tony maybe moaning and groaning, and being restless. 

Pepper had to leave after the first... god... explosion...it was... it was as if Tony had stepped on a land mine. Natasha and Thor had taken her out, back to the living quarters. Bruce's eyes were emerald, but he stayed, and spoke quietly to Steve and Clint, using clinical terms to explain what was happening.

Neither of them understood, but it was a comfort that Bruce did. "This is... similar to metamorphosis from pupae to imago in the lepidopterans."

Steve had studied animals as an artist, but he was pretty sure caterpillars didn't explode.

"So," Clint said, dubiously, "that's natural?"

"Obviously not." Bruce looked at the monitors and shook his head. "Can't get any readings through the shell."

"Is he even alive?" Clint asked. "I mean, how can he breathe through that?"

Maya looked up from prodding the damp surface of the reddish-black stuff laying on the bed. "Technically, he's neither alive nor dead at the moment. And he's not breathing. The restructuring process will have made that not only unnecessary, but impossible."

***

Sometimes Steve hated science as much as Tony did magic. 

Pepper returned a few hours later, made up in her businesswoman armor and chatting brightly with Paul about movie-making. Paul had elected to stay until Tony recovered, because Maya hadn't been at all sure how much Tony would remember and maybe they'd need a human Jarvis again. Paul was a nice guy, Steve liked him. 

And it was funny to hear him talking with Jarvis, who seemed fascinated by him. He could hear Jarvis sounding more human all the time. He hoped Tony wouldn't mind. He really didn't think he would. Jarvis was a person to Tony.

Steve also hated waiting. They set up a corner near Tony with cots, chairs and a table, playing cards, one of Tony's monitors playing a movie, pitchers of water, coffee maker, any kind of busy work to keep from going crazy while they waited. Clint knitted. Steve wasn't sure it was ever supposed to be anything, just a long strip of random colors that he rolled up when it got in the way of pizza or whatever else they ordered in. Natasha carved soap into animals. Pepper handled S.I. business. Paul read over script concepts that his agent emailed him. Bruce kept an eye on Maya-- not that she'd done anything suspicious, but he was the only one who could possibly tell if things were going wrong and she needed help but was too proud to ask for it. Thor skyped Jane for a while, and then he brooded for a while, and then he got his StarkPad and began composing an epic about their journey through Hel. Steve read over some of it. It sounded a lot more fun than it had been to experience.

And Steve... well, he learned several different kinds of solitaire. 

Somewhere around three a.m. on the day after Tony exploded into a cocoon Steve heard a noise that was out of place. He dropped the red queen on a black two and stood up. He looked at Tony's cocoon. The whole thing quivered and a small piece broke off to land on the floor with a dry rattle.

"Something's happening." He shook Bettany awake. Everyone else had already got up. "I think it's time."

"Oh." Bettany looked at the cocoon which was now moving more vigorously. Larger chunks were falling, faster.

"Showtime," Clint said to him which seemed to help. They all gathered around Tony, but left a good distance between them. The doctors were even further back, which Steve couldn't really blame them for. It wasn't as if any of them specialized in people acting like butterflies.

The cocoon split down the middle and Tony shot up out of it, rolling off the bed and coming to his feet swiftly. Parts of the cocoon still stuck to him in patches, particularly around his face. He wavered, staggering around in short circles, with his hands out defensively. He smacked his right hand onto his chest, drawing Steve's attention to it. The arc reactor looked different, more... natural. "WHAT? What did you do to me?" Tony shouted. He pawed at the cocoon clinging to his face.

And then... small dots of bright gold appeared on his arms, and as Tony kept turning, Steve saw more following his spine and along his legs. He looked at Maya, who seemed as startled as any of them. "What's that?" he asked.

"I have absolutely no idea," she muttered without shifting her gaze from Tony. "Tony must have changed the coding."

Of course he did. Steve turned back to Tony, who was now covered in silken, softly shining, gold. It swept over his face, and then retreated, knocking off the last of the cocoon. Tony looked puzzled. He touched his stomach and said, "Huh," in a wondering tone.

"My cue," Bettany said quietly. He stepped forward. "Sir," he said in his best Jarvis voice.

After that things degenerated to typical Tony levels of surrealism, ending with Pepper sort of proposing to him, and Tony, after all, the man was a genius, immediately accepting. And of course making a risqué remark.

Well, Steve guessed he was glad to know that not everything about Tony Stark had changed.


End file.
